


You're a Mystery I Love Figuring Out

by OneTwoBreathe



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coda, M/M, Tenderness, and sometimes scenes that fit between episodes generally, patrick and david saved each other, this is very soft, various codas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 16:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19232491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneTwoBreathe/pseuds/OneTwoBreathe
Summary: You notice a lot of things, in two years. About yourself, about others. About life, about fate. About forests, too.





	You're a Mystery I Love Figuring Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JessX2231](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessX2231/gifts).



> My prompt was "pet names OR David coming out OR a missing scene from an episode" ; I hope this works for it !!  
> A lot of things are going on in my life right now, and I wish I could have written more about these two, but I'm happy with this.  
> The lyrics I used to title each section are from the songs in this playlist : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeW0Sl0tNS8&list=PLAWrWIpPFqIZxFAa-QfttcB1E1VObLWkr
> 
> Enjoy !

**I - You put your arms around me and I’m home**

Patrick discovered many things that first night at Stevie’s. About David, of course. About himself, mostly. It was kind of amazing, he thought in the dead of night, how one decision could affect so many things, how one rash move could be the right one, how one kiss in a car could feel like a thousand more things.

David’s arms were wrapped around his chest, and he smiled. It was the first time he really had time to see them, for once not hidden under some bulky sweater. He gently traced the curve of David’s biceps with his fingers, and stopped on a blooming bruise right on the shoulder. His thumb rested on the mouth-shaped mark, almost perfectly matching it. He probably shouldn’t be thinking such cheesy things, but this was the first time he’d felt like this - so deeply comfortable and in the right place. David’s arms were grounding him in this moment, and the possessiveness didn't scare him anymore. This was still so incredibly new, but it felt so right Patrick had no problem leaning into it. He wanted David’s arms around him, on his shoulders, hugging him for too long, and he felt like he’d never stop loving those arms where, for the first time, he'd found himself belonging.

The bruise was purple, angry on the pale skin but delicately kissed there, and Patrick knew he had a few matching ones along his collarbone. David had whispered something about his neck and how he never wanted it to be hidden by “stupid collars” anymore, and Patrick had laughed.

David shivered when Patrick swiped his thumb over the vein of his wrist, and wrapped himself even closer to Patrick’s chest. Patrick brought his own arm tighter around David. It all felt right.

 

**II - This is how it starts, with smart aleck remarks, you got me showing teeth, grinning back at me**

David was still reeling. He couldn't quite think, a mix of second-hand embarrassment and overwhelming love washing over him as the night wrapped up. He was both in a bubble shared by only him and his _butter-voiced beau,_ and extremely aware that half the town had come to the open mic night, and thus witnessed him being _vulnerable_ , of all things.

Once the door to Rose Apothecary has closed itself behind their last guest, David found himself breathing better.

“So ?” came a hesitant voice behind him.

Patrick was leaning against the counter, a sheepish but hopeful smile on his face.

“Well,” David started, clearing his throat, “it could have been worse.”

Patrick’s smile grew tenfold, and he looked down at his guitar before focusing back on David.

“Although, you know, considering this was ‘just a way to get people into the store’, you could have avoided performing a love song in front of the whole population of Schitt’s Creek.”

“Duly noted. Next time-”

“Next time ?!” squeaked out David.

“Yes, next time, I’ll sing something the opposite of romantic, like... Sweet Home Alabama or something.”

David actually laughed at that.

“You know, I never noticed you were such a country boy.”

“I’m sorry ?”

“Oh, come on.” This was familiar ground, the teasing and the making fun and the definite absence of vulnerability. “Fringed vests ? Sweet Home Alabama ? Plus, you sing in that nasally country way on some words.”

“Okay, I am _not_ -”

“I can’t believe I’m dating a country singer,” said David, clearly enjoying this. “What does this mean ? Do we have to move to a ranch ? Will you start wearing cowboy hats ? I can’t have you forcing your country lifestyle on me, Patrick. Horses are scary.”

“David, please.” A small smile played on Patrick’s lips, conflicted between laughing at David’s jokes or going back to the heartfelt moment he knew still permeated the air. But he could see through David’s teasing and remembered his face earlier and knew that he was just a bit overwhelmed, so he played into it. “I’d never make you live near horses. The cowboy hat is non-negotiable, though. We’ll also have to look into boots.”

“Oh god.”

“Yeehaw, David.”

 

**III - Baby, I’m yours**

“Hi, honey.”

Patrick smiled into his pillow, David’s sleepy voice coming muffled from behind him. Ever since David had told him he loved him, pet names had started popping up in sentences regularly. Baby here, babe there, honey sometimes. There was a scared look on David’s face, at first, like he worried Patrick wouldn’t like it. As he quickly realised, though, Patrick did like it - a _lot_.

“Hey.”

The sunlight was too bright for his eyes, shining directly into his pupils in a retina-burning stripe of light. He still tried to open them, wanting to see the soft Sunday morning light dripping down the walls. There was only so much time they could have to themselves before Ray would come chattering in about breakfast or a bird he saw or whatever the fuck he usually talked about, and Patrick wanted to enjoy every minute of silence they could have.

He shifted his chest around, now facing David. His boyfriend’s hair was a right mess, and behind the thin slits of his sleep-heavy eyelids a shiny pupil was glinting happily.

“This is nice.”

“Yes. Yes it is, baby."

 

**IV - Tell me you can't bear a room that I'm not in**

Here’s the thing about dating a musician : they hum. Doing the dishes, organising shelves, driving, accounting, you can keep going. Whatever they're doing, they're probably humming while doing it.

Here’s the thing about working with a musician : it’s the same thing. They hum.

So after a while, hearing Patrick’s voice rising softly through the air in the smallest hint of a melody became normal to David. Going to the flat and hearing some bits of a song over and over was a routine whenever Patrick discovered a new tune he liked. He even found himself doing it, sometimes, and his cheeks burnt up as he wondered for how long exactly he’d been humming The Best under his breath.

But today Patrick was a bit ill, and David was at the shop alone, and although he had his days where he worked shifts alone, the added worry about his boyfriend felt bitter on his tongue. He’d never been so aware of the silence, really, and the only way he could describe it was wrong (or _incorrect_ , Patrick would probably say, laughing at him). There was no one else breathing, no one asking him questions, no one laughing, and no one humming.

It was almost scary, really, how quickly Patrick became a part of his life, and how he could miss something so simple as humming. Almost, because it was also exhilarating, because David had never been able to let himself go knowing someone will catch him.

Almost, because the ache only made him appreciate the love more.

So he let himself miss the humming, and he texted Patrick an unprofessional amount of times, and asked him if he had a new musical obsession so that he could listen to it himself during his lunch break.

Everything was fine.

 

**V - I bet our songs sound sweeter with a little silver peaking through our hair**

David was carefully examining his hair in the mirror. Looking for grey hair, because the stress of everything in his life had had lasting effects on him, and Schitt’s Creek had aged him about 50 years - or so he said.

Patrick was sitting on the bed and smiled as he saw his boyfriend so taken in his task. He thought, for a second, about growing old, and what it meant, and growing old with David, and what _that_ meant.

Growing old with Rachel had been obvious, the same way every routine is obvious. With each year that passed, five more projected themselves ahead, and soon enough he had a nice path to follow stretched before him. The path wasn’t perfect, the path didn’t feel like what everyone said it did - maybe they’d had nicer weather taking it, maybe they’d been wearing better shoes. It had to start feeling good at some point, right ?

Except it never did, because if life was easy people would have figured it out by now, and when he’d found himself to the point of no return he couldn’t cross the line. So he ran, as fast as he could, through the forest and the confusion and the tall grass and the guilt until he found a clearing, somehow.

And that clearing was everything he never knew he needed. But that had only been that in his head, at first : a clearing. A nice stop, that wouldn’t take you far. When he saw Rachel at the barbecue, the clearing almost went up in flames.

But now a path was visible from the clearing, and that metaphor was getting a bit obnoxious but Patrick liked it so he kept going with it. David was now applying some expensive moisturiser on his face, and it was easy to picture the same thing five mornings in the future. Actually, Patrick _wanted_ to picture it.

“What are you smiling at ?”

“Nothing,” replied Patrick, still smiling.

Truly, he was smiling because he could finally see the path ahead without wanting to choke.

 

**VI - I hope it’s you, where every little path I’m taking leads**

Fate is a curious thing.

As Patrick swayed in David’s arms, those same arms that had made him feel home for the first time, comforting instead of constricting, he asked himself how he’d managed to land there. He didn’t like thinking about coincidences, because coincidences are much too flimsy, and nothing about David was flimsy.

As David swayed in Patrick’s arms, those same arms that had made him feel loved for the first time, long lasting instead of ephemeral, he asked himself how he’d managed to land there. He could only see it being a coincidence, because considering his track record, Patrick was way too good for him to have been planned by some higher power.

Fate is a curious thing.

How it can bring two people, so incredibly different in their lives and in their pains, and beyond everything that shouldn’t work... make it work. Because sometimes, it does work out. Because sometimes, the person who ends up saving you also needs saving and you’re the only one who can help. Because sometimes, the path isn’t there until you walk it with someone else. Because every clearing leads somewhere.

Because Fate is a curious thing, and they’re not done noticing it.


End file.
